Silent Hill: Ailment
by Ember Belli
Summary: Ember Montgomery wakes up in the town of Silent Hill and cannot remember anything about her recent past. Claudia Wolf, in need of something new in her life, takes the girl in and becomes immediately attached to her. All is well, until a religious war between the four sects of the Order and Christabella's clan breaks out. A story of love, hate, and religious controversy.
1. Chapter 1: Silent Hill

Fear pulsed through her body as she lay on the cool pavement.

Ember Montgomery, aged seventeen years, struggled to draw in breaths as her eyes peeled themselves open. Every cell within her very body ached. Her skull felt heavy and weighted-down. Legs felt utterly as if they were composed of gelatin. Her muscles felt stretched and her fingers were numb. Red hair was matted in all directions, causing a ball of hair to form at the back of her neck. Too frightened to move her body, she slowly reached an arm up and wiped hair from her face. No pain. Her arms bore no pain to them, but the bottom half of her was the exact opposite.

Darkness filled her pupils, surprising her heavily. Night had fallen over the Earth.

Her knees had been skinned, even through the tight jeans that contained her skinny legs. Her elbows the same, the skin having been scraped violently as she had hit the pavement, her thick sweater creating no true protection.

No matter how much she put her mind to it, she could not remember what had happened.

"What the hell?" she whispered to no one as she lay sprawled. She rolled her head to he right side, only to find her smart phone lying idle next to her. The screen had been shattered. "No," she said, as she quickly reached out and grabbed it.

Holding it before her face proved only that it was indeed ruined and completely useless. Her fingers pressed buttons quickly, the keys not even beeping as they normally did when they were dialed. The phone was now a piece of junk. It was nothing but a piece of plastic. Ember slammed it back onto the ground angrily.

Knowing that she had to figure out what had gone wrong, she began to sit up. She got on her knees without an immense level of pain, just a few twangs of it here-and-there on her lower half. She sat idle for a moment, on her hands and knees. Her head hung between her arms as they supported her, hair resting in front of her face, blocking her view of the darkness. Forcing herself upright, pain shot threw her back, and she cried out as she straightened herself on her feet. Once she was able to stand upright without the feeling of falling over, she bent down and scooped up her dead cell phone. She pushed it deep into her back pocket and scanned her surroundings.

Taking a good look around concluded that she was in the center of a road. Pine trees thickly coated both sides of the road. A little frightened, Ember turned in a circle, observing everything around her. The moon, a brilliant crescent, hung high above the tree tops. The pines swayed in the breeze, their shadows dancing everywhere around her, confusing her into thinking that there was some animal waiting to pounce on her.

She knew nothing of where she was, or what she was even doing there. She couldn't figure out why she had been lying in the middle of a road, either. Nothing seemed right at that moment. No matter how much she attempted, she couldn't bring forth the memories of what she had been doing before this had happened. The road was silent, so desolate that she wondered if she wasn't dreaming.

Taking deep inhales, she paused when she noticed a shadow figure standing beside the road, just ahead. Finding the right footing, she began to head towards it. Her feet like jell-o, she still managed to stay upright. The possibility that it could be an eyewitness to past events made her stomach turn. She held her hands as she strode, reaching for anything she could grab on to. If it was a person, she didn't care who it was, she was already planning on weeping on them.

The shadow was no person.

It was a road sign.

The sign stood on the right side of the road, beside a guard rail. More pines inhabited the hillside that ducked down on the opposite side of the guard rail. Ember halted for a moment to study it. It was older, obviously, for half of the paint was chipping and the wood mostly rotted. But it was not so rotted that it deemed it ineligible.

Welcome to Silent Hill.

Ember half gasped. "Silent Hill?"

It was a town she had only heard of by eavesdropping on her parent's conversations. They often spoke of the town shrilly, but she could never understand why. Ember hugged herself. Although Silent Hill was territory she had never set foot in, it was a town, nevertheless. She could inquire about receiving help getting back home.

Ember swallowed took a deep breath, and took one step, passing the sign. This was the first time she had ever felt nervous stepping into a place she had not been.


	2. Chapter 2: Fetch

Claudia Wolf was not used to praying so late into the night. In fact, praying any time between the hours of eight PM and seven Am was considered taboo, and utterly off schedule. Claudia was certain that she had had a vision from God in her dreams, and she had immediately sprang from bed. She quickly slipped into her usual outfit of black, and scooted quietly down the corridors of the church to the chapel. She walked with quick steps, sure that her bare feet would not create enough racket to wake anyone.

She set to prayer immediately. She sat posed on her knees , hands folded, head bowed. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became God-welcoming hours. By the time the suns rays began to shine through the vibrant stained-glass windows, Claudia was unsure if she was finished. Although she heard the sound of her fellow Order members awakening behind their doors, she kept her head bowed.

Time soon became of the essence, and Claudia knew that she must finish. She whispered one last thank you to the God, and rose. Her legs felt tight and stiff from hours of praying. Ignoring the muscles in her legs, commanding movement, she took a seat at the altar, and began to scrawl out a new scripture for the mass that was to take place that evening. Friday masses were often popular, and as High Priestess, she had to keep the member's interest in God and Paradise sparked. When her body began to demand nourishment, she crossed through the chapel, and into a small pantry where members could enjoy refreshments and converse after mass. She hastily prepared herself a glass of wine, and took a few slices of bread, and set straight back to work on her scriptures.

She had all but bitten into a piece of the soft bread, when one of her fellow members of the Highest respect in her sect, Vincent Smith, entered the chapel through the back.

"Had a late night, didn't you, Priestess?" Vincent asked.

Claudia scoffed and set her bread down. She was in the middle of writing what she considered one of her most intelligent scriptures, and in strides this curate. He was always interrupting her when she was most busy. She gripped her quill angrily.

"Do you have anything more productive to do then constantly interrupt me?" she hissed.

Vincent chuckled. "I'm afraid not." He strode down the aisle and halted before the altar. He placed one hand on his hip, and examined the fingernails on his free hand. "Although, I have come to inform you of the newcomer to Silent Hill."

Claudia sniffled. "Liar," she mumbled. "There are no newcomers."

Vincent shook his head. Claudia had always been hard headed. Even as a child who endured cruel punishments from her father, she never ceased to be headstrong. There indeed was a newcomer, and he felt that as a Priest of a sort, it was among his duties to inform Claudia of any possible dangers. Although he couldn't bear to be in the same room with her for the majority of the time. Claudia was astute, she knew that he wouldn't have mentioned it if there wasn't truth to it.

"There is, I'm afraid," Vincent replied smoothly. "I saw her myself."

Claudia quirked the area of her face where an eyebrow was supposed to be. It had been one of her father's ridiculous ideas that she rid of her delicate blond eyebrows. "Her?" she asked, standing from her seat.

Vincent knew what she was getting excited about. "Yes, her. And, no, it is not the girl who carries God within her," Vincent stated.

"Can you be sure?" Claudia asked. She never knew when Vincent was attempting to play a trick on her.

Vincent adjusted his glasses. "I know what Cheryl Mason looks like, Claudia, and I can assure you, it is not her."

Claudia gave a disapproving look. "You know that the ability for a person to conceal their identity these days is rather extreme," she said. "Did you know that a woman can change the very color of her hair, simply by rubbing it with some sort of concoction?"

Vincent laughed. He was all too familiar with the ways of regular women. Women who carried purses and wore mini-skirts. Many of these women he had had the pleasure of bedding during his period of separation of study for the Order. "Yes, I am aware of that. It's called Hair Dye," he replied through giggles.

"Whatever," hissed Claudia. "It's a Sin. Everyone is born the way God wants them to be."

Claudia straightened her posture. She pondered on what to do about the newcomer. Perhaps is was Alessa, perhaps it was not. Unsure if she could trust Father Vincent's judgment of the girl, her mind concocted a scheme which would put the newcomer to the very test. She paced the length of the chapel a few times, deciding to go about it. It was stupid to go about having her killed, then she'd never know if it truly is Alessa. She turned her back to Vincent, chin in hand, and smiled to herself. Paradise was closer than ever before.

"Vincent," she finally spoke. "Where did you spot this newcomer?" she asked.

Vincent cleared his throat. "On the outskirts of town. She was headed down Nathan Avenue, towards the park."

Claudia smiled to herself again. That location would do just fine.

Claudia felt the familiar tingling down her lower back. She exhaled a few times, and smirked. Vincent never looked from her. Claudia turned her head. She recognized the lump-like, stumpy frame that was perched in the back corner at that very moment. She nodded to herself approvingly. They always appeared at the best of times. She narrowed her ice-blue eyes at Vincent one last time, before giving her undivided attention to the being. She connected to it immediately. Soon she could sense all of the vibes and thoughts that it emitted. Vincent turned to see what she was looking at.

"There you are, my child," said Claudia lowly.

From the corner, the Missionary growled it's greeting at it's mistress.

Claudia raised an invisible eyebrow at it.

"Fetch," she commanded it.

**Author Commentary: I rather am enjoying how this re-write is coming along. It has proven hardy compared to my last attempt of this story. Fortunately, I have spent the last two days studying the Order, and the connections that each key character in the series has with it. I even had found a way to tie Christabella into it. I have finally developed the master plot for this, and I'm vigorous to write it. I hope you enjoy this masterpiece. It will be quite a while before you read the words "The End" for this one, I can assure you that. **


	3. Chapter 3: Brookhaven Hospital

Ember kept herself moving forward. After passing the sign that marked Silent Hill, everything around her became encased in thick fog. She kept quiet as she entered the town's outskirts. Visibility was almost hopeless, but luckily she could make out buildings as their black forms appeared against the whiteness of the fog. She strode past a street sign, dubbing the road she walked about Nathan Avenue. She kept her arms around her, for the air had become cooler, and had a certain crisp smell to it. The air surrounding Silent Hill smelled of wet autumn leaves. A scent that she knew all too well, but also surprised her, since it was Spring.

The thing about Silent Hill that Ember noticed almost immediately was that there was not a single person present. She kept close to the sidewalk, it provided a sense of direction. She had no idea where to go so she kept herself in motion. She passed buildings such as Jack's Inn, the Silent Hill Bank, and even found herself standing idle in front of a gas station. Texxon Gas, according to the neon sign that was not lit up.

"No electricity," said Ember to herself. "How weird."

Hoping that someone would be in the gas station, she headed to the front door. She reached out and grasped the cold metal door handle. It was so cold that it sent shivers down her spine. She withdrew her hand quickly, wiped it on her sweater, then grabbed it again. She pulled on the door, only to discover that it was locked. There were no cars around, the sign was not on, maybe it was closed. Ember withdrew her hand and backed away slowly, staring up the immense windows as she did. There was an Open sign, but like the roadside one, it was not lit. Ember sighed. It was no use, she would have to move on.

The fog swirled around her, encasing her like a blanket. She wrapped her arms around her and turned down a street that was lacking a street sign. It indeed was once a popular street, for each side was lined with small shops, restaurants, and even a hotel. Mailboxes were spread every block or so. Silent Hill must have been a nice little resort town back-in-the-day, but what had happened to all of it's residents? She wondered.

Ember noticed a familiar white sign that bore a read cross, with the letter H below it. There was a hospital just a few blocks down the road. The possibility that there were people there was one-in-a-million, but Ember was cold and confused, and chose to try it anyway. She had already been through enough, what with waking up in the middle of the road out in the back-road wilderness and all; she wasn't about to let her fear of hospitals stop her. Still she pushed on, determined to get to the bottom of things.

From the exterior, the building marked Brookhaven Hospital was smaller than one would think, but was once well-cared for. It was surrounded by three stone walls, all approximately ten feet high. A vintage iron gate swung in the breeze where the walls met before the entrance to the lobby. The grass had not been cut for what seemed like years, but the numerous over-grown flower gardens that decorated the proximity of the terrace- along with a variety of trees and shrubs- lead anyone to belive that Brookhaven was once the most prestigious place in Silent Hill. But everything was beyond the help of a gardener. Even if there was a gardener left in Silent Hill, they wouldn't be enough to re-populate the whole town, or even care for it by their lonesome. Ember stood outside of Brookhaven, just observing the entrance. No lights could be seen through the windows, no movement visible. She hadn't even entered the place, and already her mind began to trick her with images. Abandoned gurneys, patient clothing left in odd places, doctors tools sprawled over floors. Being nervous on a trip to the ER because you broke your arm was one thing, but Ember had a straight up fear. She didn't like the look, feel or even the smell of hospitals, and yet here she was, about to enter one willingly.

Her ears rang as she stepped up to the heavy metal doors. She quickly grasped the handle and pulled outward, revealing that the doors were unlocked and she was able to enter with ease. She held her breath as she stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind her and she exhaled. She held her eyes tightly closed until the noise of the door shutting dispersed and she was alone in silence. Taking slow breaths, she opened her eyes.

The interior was cleaner than she expected. A few mud smudges remained spread across the hideous black and white tiled floor, but only in specific places such as in front of doorways. Her eyes passed over the door to the front office, then over to the two hallways that split the entrance.

All was silent.

Ember moved forward, around the left corner.

Her mind proved right, at the end of the hallway, a rusted gurney sat beside two double doors. Considering all of the bloodied, sick or dead people that had been transported on such a contraption made her shiver. She studied it to make sure that there was nothing on it. It was bare.

"Hello?" she whispered down the empty hallways. Her voice seemed to bounce off the walls and head back toward her. "Anyone here?" She swallowed. "I need some help," she declared.

Nothing. Not a single sound was heard.

_Useless. There's no one here_, she thought. _There's no one anywhere. _

The feeling of utter loneliness became too much, and she pushed through a door. She had entered an office of some sort. There was a solid oak desk in the corner, heaps of medical records spilling out of manilla folders on its surface. A med chart hung behind the desk, the writing on it so faded it was no longer legible. A granite counter lined two meeting corners in the back of the office. Upon it was a bloodied gauze wrap, it's fibers soaked with brown festering blood. Beside the bloody mess of fibers, was a bronze key, not exactly strategically placed. Ember picked it up and observed it.

It was nothing but a plain bronze key. Pocketing the key she pressed onward, searching through a medicine cabinet. Finding nothing useful, she fled the room.

Once back in the hall, Ember discovered that the air had grown chill. Every breath she took was visible as she exhaled. It was like being outside in below freezing temperatures. It had been decently warm just minutes before, and here it was, cold. Ember wandered the halls until she discovered a blue door that marked the staircase, and she took it.

She ascended all the way to the third floor and entered. The temperature was warmer up here, and Ember felt her senses relaxed as she moved from door-to-door, checking the locks on all of them. Adjacent from the stairwell exit lied two double doors. Thinking that their could be doctors or other humans on the opposite side, she attempted to open them. She pressed the bars down, only to have them snap back up and click into place. Puzzled, Ember squinted her face, then activated the bars again, pushing heavily on the doors. She rammed her shoulder into them, knocking them open. She fell through the doorway and landed on the cool stone floor. Coughing because of dust, she pushed herself to her feet and headed for the only place that was feasible to go, down the corridor. She counted twelve doors that lined the left wall, each was locked. On the right she counted four doors. Silently she went to each door and tried the bronze key. None of them worked. They key seemed to big for any of the locks she had tried. It probably was the key to something on the second floor, but the second floor door had been locked, and the key had even been too big for that door, too. Ember sighed at the failed attempt to open the last door on the second floor, and placed her forehead to it.

"It's no use," she cried.

For the first time she felt like crying. Her eyes filled with tears, but only a few managed to escape. They traveled down her cheeks, only to run off the tip of her nose and hit the floor. She stood against the door for a few moments, breathing.

Immediately she thought of her mother. Her father, too. Where were they? Did they known she was alive? Would they search for her?

Of course they would.

They were the Montgomery's, and family was the most important thing to them. Ember knew that her mother was probably going crazy over the fact that she was missing. Her mother had always been attached to her, ever since she had lost a baby when Ember was seven. That immediately transformed Ember into her "baby girl," no matter how old she'd get.

"Mom?" Ember whispered to no one. "If you can hear me, I'm still here."

But there was no answer. Just the silence of Brookhaven Hospital. The same silence that hung over the town of Silent Hill.

Or so she thought.

As Ember regained her wits enough to move on, she heard a noise.

It was a loud scraping noise, metal-upon-metal, and it was above her head. The racket was followed by footsteps. Remembering that the staircase had not ended at the third floor, she bolted from the Solitary corridor, and rammed out into the stairway. She rushed up two flights of stairs before she skidded to a halt before an immense black door. After catching her breath, she pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sounds.

The footsteps came again.

Just imagining what kind of people it could have been, Ember smiled. She grasped the handle and turned it. It would not turn. With one swift movement, she swiped the bronze key from her pocket, and eased into the lock. Perfect fit. She praised herself as she turned the lock, and the door creaked open.

She stepped out slowly, prepared for absolutely anything. As she emerged from the stairwell, wind whipped through her hair, causing the red tendrils to fly in her face. The noises had ceased. She pressed herself to the surface of the outside of the black door, careful as to not shut it behind her.

She was once again outside. But this time, she was surrounded by darkness.

One day.

Ember had been away from home for one whole day, and she had not found one other human, just a bunch of abandoned buildings and some useless items. The fog outside was so thick that she had been unable to tell what time of day it was. That was earlier. She must have been inside the hospital for longer than she had thought, for it was pitch black out. However, one dusk-to-dawn light illuminated the roof. All that was visible was the gray floor as it spread outward toward the street. A few empty crates were off to the side, and the corners were doused in blackness.

The noises began again. This time coming from the leftmost corner of the roof. Ember winced as the noise grew louder in her ears. It became so loud that she felt as if her ears would bleed. This was the noise of metal being violently scraped upon stone.

It was followed by a low growl.

And out it stepped.

It, indeed, for Ember had not a clue what it was. The creature stood approximately ten feet tall, towering over Ember's mere five-foot-four. It's appearance was similar to that of a clump of bloodied meat. It's frame was bent in strange shapes, yet it had some humanly qualities. It stood on two legs, and had two arm-like limbs, each bearing one of two odd-looking scythes. It growled lowly, showing Ember that she was no intimidation.

Ember screamed when she saw it. It was something she could only imagine in her nightmares. She let out her high-pitched wail, loud enough that if there was someone in Silent Hill somewhere, they'd hear it. Her voice echoed off of many different objects, returning to her various times. She inhaled and held her breath, readying to let loose another cry of terror. It advanced on her, drawing back it's scythe arm. It swung straight out, missing Ember's head by a mere inch or so. Ember cried out again and dropped to the floor. She landed heavily on her stomach. Her guts sloshed and she thought she'd let loose bile, but suppressed the very the monster thrust it's arm downward, Ember rolled from range. When she rolled, she smacked her head against one of the crates. She cried out quietly, groping the back of her skull with her hand.

She rolled again, dodging another attempt to thrust the blade inside her gullet. With a deep breath, Ember pushed upward with her palms, sending her up on her feet. Completely confused and unknowledgeable on how to successfully survive an attack by a monster that couldn't possibly be real, Ember felt trapped. She began using her athleticness to her advantage. She ducked, rolled, jumped, even dipped to avoid the sharp edges of the monsters limbs. Hoping that somehow the creature had a low stamina and would tire, she kept on guard as it attempted numerously to send her to her demise.

But Ember was more determined to live. Ducking low one last time, she threw her weight forward, and tossed her feet upward. Once her hands touched the cool stone floor, she arched her back and flung her feet outward. They struck the creature in it's head-like top, sending it falling. It was something Ember had never done before, and the fact that she rolled over herself and landed in a crouching position only brought upon feelings of pride. The monster hissed, and regained it's stance.

"Oh, shit," Ember muttered as it drew back it's limb. It's opposite limb raised high above it's head.

It did not attack as violently as expected. But, rather, sent a quick slice toward her face. The blade slid across her right cheek so fast that she had no time to react before it struck out, knocking her backwards. She cupped a hand over the tender, bloody slice that inhabited her cheek just as her body slammed hard into the floor. The last thing she saw before her head cracked hard against the floor was the creature's deformed face as it bent over her small meager body.

**A/N: No reviews yet? Oh well! I'm going to finish this story, despite if I get any reviews or not. Hope someone enjoyed it at least. **


	4. Chapter 4: Not Alessa

Claudia had been busy praying, as she spent the majority of her life doing, when she heard the door to the chapel burst open. Within the first few moments, she sat in utter silence, head bowed, hands clasped before her plain face. She was never one to break prayer before finished, and whoever had stormed into her presence so demandingly would have to sit idle for a few while she finished. Rushing was a disheartening thing, but rushing a high priestess while she was at prayer, was a sin all it's own. Claudia did not move for several minutes.

She rose with a grace and turned to lay eyes upon whoever required her attention so precipitously. Why, it was her dear pet, the Missionary. He carried some sort of bundle in his arms. When she acknowledged her, he stepped forward, and bent over. He laid the bundle down gingerly upon the hardwood chapel floor. The bundle was a mess of an auburn, white, black and flesh-colored composition.

Even without resting eyes on it, Claudia knew that the Missionary had done what had been asked of him. He performed serviceably, and therefore, earned a tad more of the priestess' respect. He bowed his head at his mistress' as she prayed over him. With a nod of her head, she dismissed him.

Claudia stood above the girl as she lay unconscious. Her red hair matted, encrusted with blood at the hairline, covering her face so her features were unreadable. Something deep inside the Order priestess spoke to her, claiming that Father Vincent had been wrong. But still, she remained skeptical. It was not often that newcomers arrived in Silent Hill. And when they did, they were unable to survive the evils that lurked. No, anyone who came to Silent Hill perished in the most cruel ways. If this girl really had survived the monsters, she had to have either a strong will, or God watched over her.

Claudia clicked her tongue as she pondered on what to do with such a being. She reached down and swiped the tangled red hair from the girl's face, revealing soft, yet beautiful features. From what she could tell, the girl had very clean skin, all except for the fact that she had a bloodied gash across her right cheek. She had thin, delicate eyebrows, and a small round nose. Her lips a perfect rose-pink color. Claudia already could tell that this girl would not be allowed to get on her good side, her looks alone intimidated her. Perhaps she was Alessa, for Alessa had always been more beautiful that Claudia thought she ever could be.

The door to the right of the chapel opened, and slammed shut, causing Claudia to wince. She rose and faced the person who had entered.

Of course, it was Father Vincent, always prompt to opportunities to prove her wrong. Ever since she had directed the Missionary to capture the young female, she and Vincent had gotten into many arguments over the whole ordeal.

"See, Claudia," he said. "What did I tell you? She's not Cheryl Mason."

Claudia bite her bottom lip angrily. She knew he was right. She had seen a picture of Alessa's recent form. Alessa's head was adjourned with mid-length yellow hair, whilst this girl had shoulder-length auburn tendrils. Just the fact that she had wandered into Silent Hill willingly was enough to give Claudia that tiny speck of hope that she had returned to usher in Paradise.

"No," Claudia finally admitted, not losing her priestess air.

Vincent inched over toward the girl's form. He studied her closely, from every little crease in her forehead, to the slight curve of her body. This girl had to be at least sixteen years of age, he determined. Judging by the fancy-like white blouse that concealed her bare top-half, her family had money, for no poor girl would be wearing such a thing just to venture into the unknown.

That was, of course, if the girl had entered Silent Hill by her own will. The town had a way to it that drew all types of people in, from murderers, to rapists, to adults determined to locate a missing loved one. Vincent and Claudia had sat around and watch their beloved town take the lives of all sorts.

"What do you presume to do with her?" Vincent asked.

"I have not a clue." Claudia began to pace. She raised her head up to the Halo of the Sun insignia that looked down upon the chapel. "Perhaps her fate lies in God. We must find out why she has come to this place."

Vincent scoffed. Claudia was going off on her God streak again. She had claimed a few people to be God's beloveds. She was wrong in her judgment most of the time, but he would never admit that to her. Claudia had a brash temper when she was confronted about things, especially the way she interpreted God's will.

Vincent reached down and took the girl's pulse via her neck. He was gentle when he pressed his fingertips into her skin. Her pulse was slowed due to her unconscious state, but was otherwise considered normal. Vincent had taken a few first-aid courses in school, so he knew what he was doing. His attention then moved to the seeping wound on her face. The blood coming from it retained moisture, a sign that it was more recent that he had thought. With a couple dabs from a cotton ball and medical alcohol that he kept in a first-aid kit in his quarters, he could have it cleaned and sterilized in no time. The cut looked too straight to be the result of an accident, the Missionary had sliced her on purpose. It would need stitches, he concluded, which he was very skilled at performing. Now he just had to persuade Claudia to keep her around long enough so he could perform these things. It would make him sleep easier knowing that he had done his good deed for the day.

"She won't be waking up for a while," stated Vincent. "I shall get this wound fixed up and you can interrogate her if you wish," he said. He was not asking, either. The wounded was bleeding so significantly, that even her complexion showed it. She was paler than most redheads should be.

Claudia nodded. She had already set her mind on the hypothesis that the girl was something special, and that God had brought her to Silent Hill for a reason. She would allow Vincent to play doctor on her, and would see that she was interrogated as soon as she showed signs of regularity.

"All right," said Claudia plainly. "Take her into the empty chamber beside the Belfry Room. You can use that to perform your mediocre medical assessments on her." She turned to her altar once more and dropped to her knees. She folded her hands once more. "I wish to know when she awakens at once," she demanded.

Vincent smirked. "Of course, your majesty," he replied mockingly. Although he had her back to him, he threw in an exaggerated bow before he reached down, slid his arms underneath the girl, and disappeared into the corridor with her.


	5. Chapter 5: Healing

As Claudia had instructed, Vincent carried the surprisingly light girl into the empty quarters that resided beside the Belfry Room. It was a sad excuse for proper quarters; it was much smaller than the rest of the rooms. The whole room was composed of a dresser, and empty bookshelf and a bed that was stripped down to a bear mattress, which was discolored due to being unused for so long.

He lay the girl down gingerly and set to work. He rolled up his sleeves and fled the chamber quickly. He headed down to his quarters on the second floor. No one had seen him enter or exit the empty room where the girl now lay, so no one asked anything. From his own room he fetched his first-aid kit, a sewing needle, some thread, and a book of prayers. He headed back to the room speedily, making sure that no one noticed him re-enter.

He was glad to discover that the girl had not come to, and lay as she had been set. Vincent laid his tool out on the dresser, and lit a few candles for extra light. He positioned her on her back, and wiped all hair from her face. He withdrew a cotton ball from his kit, and soaked it with alcohol. He wiped and dabbed the wound. Soon the white surface of the cotton wad was plastered with the vibrance of fresh blood. He sighed and fetched another. As he dabbed, he took note of the girl's breathing pattern. She would inhale heavily, only to exhale so lightly that it seemed almost absent. He caught himself pausing so he could hear her exhale. Once she had, he'd set back to work.

It took him twenty-five minutes to clean the wound to his standards. It was utterly clean, with not a drop of blood left. He thanked God that she was still out, for he was sure that the alcohol burned such a deep cut and she most likely would have wriggled.

Like he had learned in a first-aid book, he placed the tip of his needle into a candle flame. This would make it easier to pierce skin without causing any tearing; it also removed and harmful germs. By this time Vincent had applied the latex gloves that had been with his kit. Threading the needle was no chore to him, and he placed the needle in the flame again. When the had come, he steadied her head with his left hand, and began to penetrate the skin with his right, his dominant hand. Heating the tool indeed did make it easier. It slid through her skin like a knife through hot butter. The girl's face received a total of eleven stitches when Vincent had completed. He leaned back from her, set the needle down. He nodded approvingly at his very well-place, and very neat, stitched as he pulled the latex gloves from his hands. That was one thing Claudia had never taken time to acknowledge, his ability to act as a make-do doctor for the church.

Taking pride in his work, he smiled to himself as he returned his tools from his kit. He then exited the room once more, returning with sheets, a quilt and a pillow. He moved the girl around the bed so he could place the sheets over the mattress. He then moved her to the top of the bed, placed the pillow underneath her head, and the quilt over her thin body.

Knowing that God appreciated his tenderness he had shown the girl, he reclined in a chair across the room from her. He dug his face deeply into his prayer book, reading about Paradise. It was not often he got to relax in this way, but when he did, it was so tranquil that he was surprised that God did not consider it a sin. Vincent was the type of man who could read for hours on end, and devour books in one sitting. If he found a book to be of his interest, he'd scrawl our a review for it in a leather-bound journal he kept in his room. Not many books had made it in there, but the ones that did he made sure he owned personal copies of. Claudia was known for doing this, too, but she was the type to pick apart a book from front to back cover, trying to figure out secret messages they could possibly convey. Mostly she was known for reading prayers and scriptures, all of which she composed herself.

Ah, Claudia. She crossed Vincent's mind many a day. Their relationship was biased on opinions of God, and arguing over simple things such as whether or not Claudia should allow her eyebrows to grow back in- something Vincent dearly hoped to see someday. It had been her Father's decision that she rid of them, said that their absence made her less appealing to eyes of males, so they'd avoid her and she could focus on God. But Leanord Wolf's ideology on how to make Claudia ugly in the eyes if men had done no good. Sure, she had no eyebrows and her expressions were hard to interpret sometimes, but their absence did nothing to ruin her appearance. She was still pleasing to the eyes of some. Him, included. Anyone who had sense knew that Leanord only suggested she rid of her brows so that she'd appear less like her mother, who Leanord placed the blame of her death on Claudia.

That was also most of the reason for the abuse. Sure, parent's disciplined their children once-in-a-while by giving them a good whack on the behind to correct unacceptable behavior, but none of them acted as Leanord Wolf had. Vincent remembered young, ambitious Claudia. Who had been ruined by beatings, brash statements, and being dubbed horrible names. For instance, not one person could convince Claudia that she was indeed pretty.

"But you are!" Alessa had insisted in the cafeteria at University.

Claudia had just shook her head. "I am not. Father says that all high priestess' are supposed to be ugly. He says that beauty is determined by one's love for God."

Throughout her entire life, not one single person could alter her mind about herself. Not even Walter Sullivan. Not even Alessa. Vincent bet that not even God could make Claudia see the beauty of herself. She could be so harsh about insulting herself that Vincent was sure that she'd never find true love. Ever. No one wanted a woman who constantly called herself ugly, stupid, and even, worthless.

But God loved her, and even _she_ could not deny that.

Four hours passed by and Vincent finally withdrew his nose from the book. He yawned from his chair, and stretched. He was used to late nights, but he felt unusually tired. It was practically morning, anyway. Claudia had most likely stayed up praying, too. He sighed to himself and rose from the chair. He stretched his arms and headed from the room, closing the door quietly as he left. He strode down the corridor to the church's only kitchen. Only about fifteen people lived nearby the church, and could spend their days there. Only Vincent, Claudia, a man named Brother Magnus and a Sister named Rosemary actually resided permanently within the church walls. The other Order members commuted to mass and prayer every week.

Vincent went straight for the coffee machine. It was the only operating one in Silent Hill, and, of course, he had it. Very few people actually drank from it, most of the members preferred water or spiritual wine to coffee. Vincent made himself a steaming hot mu of black coffee; cream and sugar were sins, according to Claudia, and were not permitted to be used. On that note, anything sweet was considered a sin. Chocolate, especially. Claudia always gagged at the sight of the stuff. Another one of Leanord's ridiculous statements. Chocolate was a sin.

He began to toast bread in a toaster he had brought with him from the outside world. Claudia did not agree with this, either, but she allowed them to keep it, she never used it, though. She ate bread soft and without butter, drank her water at whatever temperature it came out of the faucet at, and never used gravy on anything at the celebrations the Order threw. Her eating habits were just as plain as she was.

Vincent enjoyed his breakfast of coffee and toast in the quiet. When he had finished, he dabbed his mouth with napkin and headed to his quarters to change his shirt. Vincent owned exactly three outfits, all identical. He wasn't like Claudia, who wore the same robes on a daily basis. She washed everyday and only washed her robes at most twice a month. She'd perform this chore at night, so she had a black nightgown to hide her body from peeping eyes. Claudia never appeared unclean and never bore any type of stench, no matter how dirty her robes could be. She always smelled of washroom powder and ivory soap.

Vincent was almost the same way. He washed every single day. He cleaned his glasses on a daily basis. However, he had his three outfits he could rotate through. While he wore the outfit he had started with, he washed the other two. He always had a clean set of clothes. He also had a spiffy brown suit in the back of his dresser, used only for special gatherings, and to head out into the world to seek money.

He swapped outfits quickly, ran a comb through his hair and dabbed a cologne on the nape of his neck. When finished he went straight back to the room.

When he opened the door, a muffled moan greeted him.

He jumped.

After turning to close the door behind him, he focused the girl. Why, she was sitting up. She had her hands to her temples and had her face pinched in agony. She moaned a few times and fell silent, not moving. Vincent moved to the bedside. She remained silent for a few moments, then, finally, faced him. Her eyelids pealed apart to reveal the most vibrant, beautiful pair of emerald-gree eyes Vincent had ever seen. To his surprise, the girl did not react harshly to his presence.

"Where am I?" she moaned. Her hands never separated from her temples.

Vincent cleared his throat. "Your in the church," he stated softly. "Claudia had you brought here."

The girl moaned again, softly this time. Her head must have been in some pain. A migraine, perhaps? "Whose Claudia?" she asked. "And who are you?"

Vincent pulled the chair by the bed. "I am Father Vincent," he said as he lowered himself into the rickety chair. The girl gave him a look of question. He knew already that she ad issues trusting strangers. "I'm not going to harm you," he assured you. "In fact, I'm the one who repaired your face," he said proudly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

The girl shook her head. Her hands finally left her temples and she lowered them to the bed beside her. "My face?"

Vincent sighed and rose. The girl was obviously confused about recent events. He crossed the room to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He found an ancient hand mirror. He crossed back to her and handed it to her. She took it, eyes narrowed in pain, and stared at her reflection. She fell quiet. She gently touched the wound on her cheek, now clean and stitched undeniably neatly. She had gotten stitches before, and she didn't remember them being this neat. She traced her finger around the wound a few times, surprised that it wasn't that sore.

"You did this?" she asked, running her fingertip lightly over the stitches.

Vincent nodded. "Sure did. I took first-aid in school. It's a good set of skills to have."

The girl set the mirror on the bed and hugged her knees to her. She sighed. "Am I still in Silent Hill?" she asked. So she did know the name of the town.

"I'm afraid so."

The girl retained a lost look in her eyes. She stared at the door to the room, as if into space. They both said nothing for several minutes. Vincent allowed the girl to register where she was. Finally she spoke. "That monster attacked me," she explained. "Did you kill it?" she asked, turning her vibrant emerald eyes on him questioningly.

Vincent shook his head. Although he despised the Missionary, it proved hardy for Claudia, so he couldn't kill it, no matter how much he wanted to. "I am unable to do such things," he replied plainly. "That particular creature holds a special standing in this town."

The girl cocked her head slightly. "So you didn't kill it?"

He shook his head again. "No. Claudia instructed it to capture you and bring you to us. It attacked you to simply restrain you properly."

"Whose Claudia?" she asked, perking up a bit.

Vincent sighed. Claudia. Most beautiful and graceful woman in all of the Order. As much as he would have loved to voice that opinion, he replied simply: "She is my high priestess."

"Want does she want with me?" the redhead asked.

Vincent stared into the flame of a nearby candle. "I haven't the slightest idea." Vincent got lost in his thoughts about Claudia and the Missionary that he had forgotten to ask the girl her name. "What is your name, girl?"

The girl closed her eyes and lowered her head, as if ashamed of her namesake. "Ember. Ember Montgomery. I live in Brahms." She raised her head, a single tear escaping her left eye. Her expression remained subtle.

Vincent sighed. The girl seemed well enough to speak to Claudia. He should be polite and offer her something to eat and drink, but if Claudia found out she'd anger. He placed his hands on his legs and rose from the chair once more. Regretting everything that was to come, he narrowed his eyes.

"Well, Ember Montgomery from Brahms, I believe it is time for you to meet Claudia."


	6. Chapter 6: In Question

Claudia was just about to begin scrawling down a prayer that had come to her mind when the door opened loudly. She grimaced and dropped her quill angrily upon the altar. She crossed her arms and turned to face the direction. Vincent strode in, the girl limping slightly behind him. Her gait was rigid, and it was obvious that the Missionary had not handled her gently. Claudia stood not saying a word. Vincent led the girl right up to her, where she got a good look at her face. She saw then that the girl's features were striking, angelic, even. She had not yet spoken a word and already she found herself envious of such a young, beautiful creature.

Vincent cleared his throat loudly. "Her strength is not at it's best right now, but she says she's willing to talk to you." They had discussed it before leaving the room. Vincent had helped her out of bed and aided her in walking. She said that the Missionary had knocked her over and that her ankle had cracked. Vincent bowed to Claudia and backed off. He took a seat at the front-most pew.

Claudia, knowing that she was high priestess, decided to speak first.

"I am Claudia," she introduced.

Ember assessed the woman Vincent said was high priestess of the Order. She was grand-looking. Her facial features were so beautiful they were haunting. The fact that she had no eyebrows made her look even more intriguing. Her long blond hair fell on her shoulders, not one strand was out of place. Her skin was clear, no blemishes or sun spots, just a few tiny freckles that one could only see if they were face-to-face with her. Her robes were plain, black, and fastened at her throat. Her posture was exceedingly straight and her expression demanded respect.

"A pleasure," replied Ember. She didn't want to sound like a bafoon in the presence of a woman held so high in honor. "I am Ember Montgomery, I come from Brahms."

Claudia raised where her eyebrows would be. It made her appear utterly expressionless. "Brahms? My, that is a ways. Tell me child, why have you come to this place?" Her voice was soft, yet deep, very serious. Her accent sounded as a mixture of American and English. It was much to plain too be just English.

Ember shook her head slowly. "That's what I've come to find out. I don't know why I am here."

That took Claudia by surprise. She refused to let her expression show it, though. "Surely you have arrived for a reason. You chose to enter Silent Hill, did you not?" She hoped her darting look would intimidate the girl.

"No," said Ember softly.

"No?" Claudia asked, skeptical. One thing she had learned quickly was not to trust newcomers.

Ember sighed. "I don't know how I even got here. I woke up in the middle of the road on the outskirts of Nathan Avenue," she admitted. She sighed, dropping her head. "I can't even remember what I was doing before I fell asleep." She pressed a palm to her forehead.

Claudia cocker her head to one side. She looked appalled. "Yes, of course," she whispered lowly. The next thing Ember and Vincent knew, she swept over to the altar, and reached underneath the decorative prayer cloth that hung over it. She pulled out a thick book, bound in leather. She slammed it down upon the altar than began to flip through pages vigorously. She stopped toward the back of the book, and leaned over it. She traced sentences with her finger and her lips moved silently. Her jaw fell agape and she looked right at Ember. "I did not see it before," she muttered, slamming the book shut. She laid a palm on it's cover.

Vincent was utterly confused, also a little annoyed. Claudia always found some kind of god or prophecy to compare people too. He himself had read that prayer book, and did not recall there being anything about a redheaded girl just randomly appearing in Silent Hill. Had Claudia finally lost her marbles completely?

Ember did not like the way Claudia had been so persistent about skimming that book of hers. Her behavior startled her a little.

Claudia then dropped to her knees before the altar and folded her hands.

"God, I thank you for sending us such a gift!" she stated. "A protector of Paradise."

Vincent sprang to his feet at that. "What!?" he hissed. He stomped up to the altar. "You think that Ember is the ancestor of our Xuchilbara?" He began to laugh hysterically. He wiped a tear from his eye and flung it at Claudia. Ember stood nearby, not moving. Claudia was babbling on about the ancestor of the Red God. It stated that the direct-blood ancestor would arrive in Silent Hill and protect God and her Paradise, once it could be ushered in. Vincent could not believe what he was hearing come from that woman's mouth.

Ember gasped. Claudia thought _what_ of her?

Claudia paused. Of course Vincent was mocking her! He didn't truly belive. She held her head high. It was rather a hypothesis, than a direct accusation. The Prophecy of Xuchilbara which in a young female that would aid God in Paradise. This female was rumored to be the direct blood-descendant of Xuchilbara himself. It was a Prophecy that Claudia had a small knowledge of; she needed to read on it more.

Vincent turned to Ember. "Ember," he said, "don't you believe anything that comes out of this woman's mouth. She's confused beyond belief. We have her wonderful father to thank for that," he said sarcastically.

"You dare mock me?!" Claudia asked angrily. "You'll go to hell, Vincent! This I will make sure of!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Ember winced at Claudia's anger. She didn't think she'd like her all that much. She stayed silent, so as to not anger Claudia more. Ember then remembered sometimes just how angry her father could get, especially when she thought selfishly instead of thinking of family. In truth, he had hit her before, not many times. Most of the time he just shouted out his anger, but there were always those few times. In fact, Ember had a scar on the back of her shoulder, marking where her father had taken a sharp piece of pipe to her. He only had meant to hit her with it, but a protruding piece of metal had pierced and ripped her skin. Her father to this day regretted ever raising such an object to his daughter, even cried over it when she was in the ER because of it. She touched the scar when Vincent mentioned Claudia's father.

Claudia faced Ember. She cooled her temperament. "My apologies, child," she said plainly. "I'm afraid Father Vincent has no idea what an idiot he truly is."

Vincent laughed again. "I'm an idiot? Ha! Ember, consider the source that's coming from." He glared at Claudia.

Ember had no time to react before Claudia jumped onto her feet. Before she could say anything, Claudia and Vincent were nose-to-nose screaming in each others faces. Ember covered her ears with her hands, hoping to block out the noise. Did they always fight like this? Soon she became sick of it. There was a piano over in the corner of the chapel. She ran to it, flipped up the cover and sat on the bench. She cracked her fingers against one another, then, rapidly sped into the intro of Fur Elise. Ember had taken piano lessons for the past eight years, and she could play almost anything. She played loudly to block out the noise of the bickering.

Claudia and Vincent both paused. They both glared at her, and although her back was to them, they could tell that she was sensitive to bickering. Deciding that it wasn't an advantage to the girl's welfare, Claudia decided to be the bigger person, and withdrew herself from the argument. She walked smoothly to the girl's side as she played on.

Ember ceased her playing and sighed.

"You're very good," said Claudia.

"Thanks," replied Ember.

Claudia studied the stitches on Ember's face. She then turned to Vincent. "Father Vincent," she began. "Take young Ember to the washroom. See to it that she bathes herself. Ask Sister Rosemary to fetch her something proper to wear." It was true that the girl was dirty, but not so dirty that she bore a stench.

Ember rose from the piano bench, not looking at Claudia even once. She slowly walked to Vincent's side. "I thank you, Priestess," she said, back to Claudia.

Vincent nodded at her, then, presumed to stalk towards the door.

:And make sure she is fed!" Claudia called after him, but he had already closed the door.


End file.
